Cartier frames, call me four eyes Still can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed A lot of people still got a lot of shit to say about the clothes and the pics I post But it's a beautiful day outside today Don't know which car I'ma drive today Promoter

It's "Wifey" part three My Gucci says, "Blind for love," I can't see, yeah My girl, you can't be But I wanna see you up and out of them jeans, yeah If you're blowin' up my phone, I'll leave you on "Read," yeah I'm done with them fiends (Uh) I'm a

Metro, let's try something (dope) It's Drop top If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you I'm a ex con, used to sell crack at the Texaco Known for toting guns and it's what I'm on probation for

Hope it's no hard feelings (No hard feelings, hard feelings, hard feelings) I broke so many hearts Hope it's no hard feelings Southside on the track, yeah Evil Genius Gucci season Brrr! Brrr! Haha Guwop, wizop

Iced out chain (yeah) Iced out ring (yeah) Yeah she love my diamonds That bitch wanna give me brain (oh shit) Foreign bitch with me (huh?) She do anything White diamonds on my wrist Bitch it's Gucci Gang (yeah) Ooh, Lil Pump, yuh

I'm feelin' like I took a Perc', I'm at a loss for words It's like I smoked a pound of herbs, so please do not disturb Feel like I drunk a pound of syrup and snorted up half a bird Can't even find the words, I'm so at a loss for words Metro Boomin want

I had to cut lil' mama off, now we back on They think I'm still selling soft like his bag gone I was gone for a minute, now it's back on I'm self made and independent, yup, black on I'm self made and independent, yup we black on

When the load gettin' closer, hope they don't pull him over I know my bows over, sack 'em up and keep the over Dope weighing over, please don't weigh it over It's losing water rapidly, I whipped it up with soda Count the money over, and feed the junky

My bed is draped in Gucci linen, uh Unless you is my mama, yeah When I'm fucking, call me Papa, yeah I'm high as a bird, Nelly Furtado, yeah I never say, "I love you" to these women, no They saying I'm a problem yeah No Nelly, no Nelly, it's getting hot

Niggas pistol popping like it's nineteen ninety nine I was nine maybe ten, then again never mind Press rewind, back in time before rappers dropping dimes Trap or die, choppin' pies with cliche's all in they rhymes That was Gucci, Prada and anything